


the new black and blue

by versionA



Category: GOT7
Genre: Current Jinyoung/Wonpil, M/M, Pining, doesn't last forever though as a forewarning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versionA/pseuds/versionA
Summary: Jaebum doesn’t realise he always thought Jinyoung was his, until he realises over an unlabelled box of DVDs, that he isn’t.





	the new black and blue

**Author's Note:**

> written for grand theft autumn/where is your boy!

Jaebum doesn't believe in soulmates.

It’s not that he’s particularly cynical, not like Jinyoung, who likes making Valentine Day candies engraved with ‘We Lasted Long Enough to Commodify our Romance’ just to be contrary and make his sisters huff. It’s just common sense. He doesn’t matter enough for the Universe to concoct a grand scheme where he jumps through hoops and punches walls and realises just how unlovable he is, all for the day he magically meets someone who despite not being in his life for better or worse, is somehow _perfect_ for him. 

Other halves though, someone who’s not perfect for him, but fits in snugly between the imperfect parts of him, that’s something Jaebum’s never questioned. That within the however many hundred people you meet in your life, there’s someone who picks up the book, starts reading, and grabs a pen to write themselves into your story. Jaebum doesn’t spend time waxing poetic about it usually, he just accepts that it’s possible. That it exists. Your other half. Partner. The one who completes you. Pseudo-soulmate. 

Jaebum doesn’t realise he always thought Jinyoung was his, until he realises over an unlabelled box of DVDs, that he isn’t. 

“What?” he starts, kneeing the bottom of the box to stop it from slipping out of his grip.

“I said you get to meet him at the housewarming party,” Jinyoung answers, standing on his tip-toes to run a finger across the top of his new cupboards. “So try and keep a cap on the embarrassing stories okay?” 

“You’re dating someone?” is what Jaebum fixates on. “You never told me.”

Jinyoung turns around and raises an eyebrow. “I told Mark hyung.”

“That’s not telling me,” Jaebum retorts. 

“Right after I told him, Youngjae and Jackson texted me about it, I thought he’d tell you too,” Jinyoung explains. 

_’Well he didn’t,’_ Jaebum wants to snap. Instead he bends down to place the box on the floor and wipes his hands on his jeans before asking, “Is that it? Do you need me for anything else.” 

Jinyoung’s gaze feels assessing. It’s curious if anything, but it makes Jaebum feel guilty for wanting to leave. “No,” Jinyoung says finally. He smiles, easy and open with lines creasing around his eyes like they’re rays from the fucking sun. “That’s everything. Thanks hyung.”

Jaebum and Jinyoung went to the same high school and weren’t really friends. 

Jaebum was the problematic senior with a bad attitude, and after he’d scrubbed down half the school with still no discrinciple change in behaviour, the disciplinary officer decided the only suitable punishment left was to mentor the new kid from Busan. It was meant to teach Jaebum responsibility and empathy and not to throw desks against walls because Yoo Youngjae from Homeroom decided to prank him by lathering superglue over his chair. 

Jinyoung was the type of shy that was almost better described as coy. He was a lot friendlier than what Jaebum deserved, easy to make conversation with, and took Jaebum’s unwillingness to discuss things other than where the male toilets were located with less offence than most people would. They’d spent a total of one lunch hour together before Jinyoung had quickly made his own friends and Jaebum returned to his ones. 

They still had to meet in the mornings, and after school in the small period of time before hagwon. Jaebum would show Jinyoung around Seoul, and it wasn’t how Jaebum would choose to spend his time, but it wasn’t particularly burdensome either. By the end of the year he knew Jinyoung well enough for them to be comfortable with walking aimlessly in silence, usually until a store caught Jinyoung’s eye and he’d tug at the sleeve of Jaebum’s uniform to get him to stop. Once inside Jinyoung always seemed to pay more attention to the items Jaebum would absently skim while dawdling, than whatever weirdly shaped hat had grabbed his attention in the first place. 

Jinyoung’s new ‘serious’ boyfriend, Kim Wonpil, is a freelance photographer based in Seoul. His present location at any time is dependent on 1) the season 2) whatever quaint country town the rich family he’d been employed by decided to host their daughter’s wedding. He’d met Jinyoung on the shore of Haeundae Beach. Amidst fireworks, music, dance, and the biggest Sea Festival in Busan that year, Jinyoung’s side profile highlighted by coloured lights was still the Kodak moment he couldn’t miss. Jaebum learns all of this through Youngjae, who unlike Jaebum, actually attended Jinyoung’s housewarming party and met aforementioned boyfriend. 

“He was really worried something happened to you,” Youngjae also adds. “Even after I told him you were busy with work.”

Jaebum ignores him. “Did he move in properly?” he probes, stirring his now-cold coffee. “Please don’t tell me he made you eat out of disposable bowls. Tell him to stop worrying about what colour curtains to buy before actually getting a bed.”

“No and no,” Youngjae answers. “He doesn’t even have his Television or Internet set up yet, but we ate from proper bowls.” He chews on the straw of his drink, deliberating. “He looks happy, I think he’s glad to be back in Seoul.” He doesn’t say the _’Why are you ruining it for him?’_ , probably doesn’t even think it, but Jaebum hears it anyway.

“Hey, you’re fifteen hours late to the party,” is the first thing Jinyoung says when he opens the door. He raises a hand when Jaebum opens his mouth to apologise. “Don’t worry, people are leaving but we still have plenty of pizza left.”

Jinyoung wasn’t lying about the last part. He doesn’t even have a fridge, so as soon as Jaebum steps into the apartment he’s greeted with the blunt smell of oily cheese, and the sight of a pizza box tower looking like it might topple over the kitchen counter any second. “Why in the world did you order so much?” Jaebum marvels, kicking away an empty plate on the floor.

Jinyoung looks sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have overestimated the size of my social circle… At least now I don’t have to cook today. Or tomorrow.”

They aren’t roommates anymore, haven’t been in years, but Jaebum stills feels like it’s his duty to make sure Jinyoung doesn’t constipate himself less than a week after moving back to Seoul. 

“We’re going to throw these away,” Jaebum says slowly. “Also Youngjae told me you’ve been sleeping on the floor. Please don’t tell me I spent half an hour carrying pieces of your bed up three flights of stairs for nothing.”

“If I did that…” Jinyoung starts carefully, trying to keep his expression solemn. “I would have to also not tell you that I haven’t gotten around to getting electricity yet.” 

The laugh that leaves Jinyoung is almost as deep as Jaebum’s frown. 

“You should live without electricity for a few days hyung,” Jinyoung says later, leaning against the small window in his bedroom, while Jaebum kneels on the floor trying to differentiate between two pieces of wood. “It’s actually better for us to rely on sunlight because it’s like fine tuning our biological clock.” 

“I believe you,” Jaebum says. He finds the piece that’s meant to be a support block and beckons Jinyoung over to help hold it upright. “Is this why you haven’t bothered putting together your bed yet? It goes against your biological instinct to sleep on a cave floor.” 

“Wonpil was meant to come over tonight to help me build it. It’s not my fault you jumped the gun,” Jinyoung says. Jaebum gently tucks Jinyoung’s thumb behind the wood, safely away from where he’s aiming the hammer. “I can’t help it that everyone’s obsessed with getting me into bed.”

“Motherfuck–” Jaebum yells, the hammer falls against the floor with a loud thud, and Jinyoung’s expression goes from teasing to concerned in less than a second. He grabs Jaebum’s hand and holds it between his palms. 

“Fuck,” Jinyoung breathes, “Hold on I’ll go get some Ice– just kidding I don’t have a refrigerator, I’m a fucking idiot.” 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum seethes through clenched teeth. “Please tell me you at least have running water.”

Thankfully he does. Jaebum holds his thumb under the tap, the sting of the cold water numbing some of the ache. Jinyoung leaves to try and pilfer ice from one of his neighbours. He comes back five minutes later, looking harassed, with a bag of frozen beans hanging limply from one hand. Jaebum will take what he can get. He moves his thumb out of the water and grimaces when he notices his cuticle turning black. 

Jinyoung looks pale. “Don’t worry," Jaebum reassures, "It’ll fall out by itself.” He grabs the bag of beans and presses it over his finger. 

“As in…” Jinyoung whispers. “The whole thumb?”

Jaebum snorts and manoeuvres a leg around to kick Jinyoung on the back of his knee. “No, as in the nail. Which, speaking of nails, and um, woodwork. I’m uh, sorry,” Jaebum apologises. “I should probably go get this checked, but I can come back this evening to finish the bed.”

Jinyoung waves him off, wraps a hand around Jaebum’s rib to turn him towards the door. “Don’t worry about it. I told you, Wonpil was meant to come over tonight to build it.” Then he adds, casual and careless, like his tongue isn’t a pistol that he’s holding point-blank against Jaebum’s chest, “We’ll probably have more use for it after it’s done than you and me would anyway.” 

It’s a struggle for Jaebum, getting away from there as fast as he can. He counts the cars in front of him on the drive back home. Fiddles with the radio and breaths through his nose. He ends up stuck in traffic and tries to think about anything other than the lilt in Jinyoung’s voice. A smidge dreamy, more than a little obscene, and _fuck_ – Jaebum slams his forehead against the steering wheel. His car lets out a loud honk and it sets off his entire lane.

Is Jinyoung doing this on purpose? Does he hate Jaebum that much? 

Jaebum enlisted for the military right after he graduated high school. It was meant to be some kind of middle finger towards the establishment. His first day of training, however, had a boot pressed against his back, and before he could scream into the mud and kick someone's kneecap, there was a hand on his collar hefting him up like he was little more than trash that needed to be thrown out. Captain Lee Junho grinned at Jaebum’s dirtied and calloused face, and said “I want this spitball in my squad.”

Two years of scrubbing toilets, having his name become synonymous with bastard, and enduring it all without swallowing a grenade, meant that Jaebum left the army with one important life lesson. Bullshit happens, the best men know to suck it up. 

Jaebum enrolled for University right after being discharged from the military. It was halfway through the academic year, and Jaebum was lucky to find affordable housing when he did. The second floor of a locally owned chicken shop probably wasn’t a college student’s dream, but after sleeping in cramped quarters with twenty other soldiers – all older than him and hell bent on reminding him so – anything more than a hole in the ground would be better. He lugged his single suitcase up the narrow stairway, while the old landlady in front of him fussed over how tired he looked. 

It could be the romanticism of hindsight, but to this day Jaebum swears he recognised those footsteps first. The same rhythm that would tread the footpath next to him after school, drummed it’s way towards the door like a countdown. And when Park Jinyoung opened the door and his eyes landed on Im Jaebum – taller, sharper faced, a hand running nervously across his buzzcut – the air left the stairwell for a second.

The apartment actually looks serviceable as a home now, and Jinyoung gives them all a quick tour despite the fact you can see ¾ of the floorplan from the threshold. It’s decorated simply, a few things like a bookshelf that spans an entire wall, and the four day old sandwich sitting on the coffee table making it quintessentially Jinyoung. When he shows them his bedroom Jaebum can’t look at the bed without wanting to throw up. 

Despite all of Jaebum’s reservations, the time goes by fast. The seven of them together makes things feel fluid, creates a framework that Jaebum can move freely in. It’s when everybody's mostly tired and tipsy, and Yugyeom points at an empty bottle of soju on the middle of the floor crying _’Seven Minutes in Heaven!_ , that Jaebum realises he hasn’t properly talked to Jinyoung the entire night.

Bambam lurches forward to spin the bottle first. He’s not even the most drunk out of all of them, but his natural excessiveness at everything causes the bottle to go careening upwards and hit Youngjae’s forehead. Jackson cracks up laughing while Bambam twists his tongue trying to apologise twenty different ways at once. 

Jaebum turns around to meet Jinyoung’s eyes, wants to see Jinyoung’s lips mouth _’these kids’_ and grin at him in solidarity like they used to do back when. Instead he catches Jinyoung halfway through fighting a grimace, and Jaebum’s gaze follows the direction of his frown towards Mark. 

“What happened?” Jaebum asks, trying to sound casual. 

“Nothing,” Jinyoung replies at the same time Mark goes, “So are you going to leave when he gets relocated again?”

Frost spreads from the middle of Jaebum’s chest, down to his stomach. “What?” he asks. 

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung repeats. “I was telling Mark how i decided to move back because Wonpil thinks he’s probably going to be based in Seoul for the next few years if he gets the job at CeCi.”

It really is nothing, Jaebum knowns objectively. It feels like _something_ though. “CeCi? Like the fashion magazine? Since when was he into fashion?” 

Jinyoung squares his shoulders. “He used to dabble in fashion before he became more interested in street photography, but it’s harder to gain stable employment that way. You can’t blame a guy for wanting to eat.” 

“Alright I was just asking, why are you getting so defensive?” Jaebum accuses.

“I’m not,” Jinyoung says, bristling. “I’m just saying.” 

“So are you?” Jaebum asks. 

“Am I what?”

“If he doesn’t get the job and he relocates, are you going to pack your bags and follow him?”

Jinyoung snorts. “Yeah sure, for the children’s sake,” he says dryly. “We’re not married hyung.”

“You moved back for him though, didn’t you?” Jaebum retorts. “Sounds like you’re pretty committed.”

Jinyoung falters, the back and forth comes to a halt, and Jaebum’s stomach drops. It’s his score, but this wasn’t a game he wanted to play or win. “Well, why shouldn’t I be?” Jinyoung says, “He’s a nice guy, we get along well, I’m happy with him.” 

It’s subtle, the way Jinyoung’s voice turns mollifying. Practiced. It used to remind Jaebum of his mother’s voice after he’d wake from nightmares as a child, trying to reassure him none of the monsters were real. Now it just feels disingenuous, like Jinyoung was coaxing him to drink poison from his hands. 

Someone coughs and Jinyoung and Jaebum blink at each other. When Jaebum looks around there’s five pairs of eyes that avert their gaze quickly. 

“Um, it’s pretty late,” Jaebum says, getting up from the floor. “I have work tomorrow and–”

“No worries,” Jinyoung cuts in. He stands up, pretends nobody’s watching as he walks Jaebum to the door. 

Jaebum puts on his shoes, acting like the entire scene doesn’t feel repetitive and that he isn’t braced to hear the worst from Jinyoung again. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands once he’s done, is about to make-do with an awkward pat on the shoulder until Jinyoung reaches out to prompt him into a one-armed hug. 

“Thanks for coming hyung,” Jinyoung whispers into his ear. “Next time I’ll invite Wonpil, I can’t believe you haven’t even met him yet.”

Of course Jinyoung never lets him down.

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter coming... soon... hopefully... i have a good bulk of it written out!


End file.
